


Twins of Nazair

by EAVanGeek



Series: The Lady and The Rose [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Body Modification, Cat School (The Witcher), Character Study, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), The Witcher Lore, Trans Female Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-02-07 03:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18612568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAVanGeek/pseuds/EAVanGeek
Summary: Long before the Nilfgaardian Wars, before the Butcher of Blaviken, during the time known as 'The Golden Era' for witchers- there was a Cat named Lady... These are the tales of her earliest years, training and fighting to become a Witcher.Reader Warning:: This part of 'The Lady and The Rose' contains several instances of transphobia and abuse. If you are not comfortable with this then please feel free to skip this and move onto the next part of the series.This is an OC study, primarily focused The Lady Witcher, my OC. Set a few hundred years before Geralt's story.





	1. Surprises- 4 years old

Byron hadn’t expected the Law of Surprise to give him identical twins. He had waited until they were weaned before taking them from their father, but the time had passed. At the age of 4, the two boys continued to roughhouse while they travelled on the road.

 

“Let’s play Lords and Ladies! You be the Lord, I’ll be the Lady.”

 

“No fair, you’re always the Lady. I want to be the Lady this time!”

 

“You can’t! You’re a boy! Lords are boys and Ladies are girls!”

 

“You’ve got a willy just like me, you’re a Lord!”

 

“Am not!”

 

“Are so!”

 

“Enough.” Byron’s eyes snapped open. He knew they were reflecting the firelight. The identical heads swivelled towards him, dirt and grim from the journey making it harder to tell them apart. “Go to sleep, now.”

 

“Fuck you!” one of them shouted, the other laughing with his twin.

 

Byron rolled his eyes and pulled out his sword. He dragged the cleaning cloth across the weapon, pulling out his oils and poisons. One of the boys came to sit next to him, their eyes focused on the weapon. Byron paused, looking at the boy.

 

“Which one are you?” Byron asked.

 

“... Lady.”

 

“You’re a boy.”

 

“So.” The boy looked up at Byron. He was young, a child who didn’t understand the world.

 

“Fine. You are Lady.” Byron went back to taking care of his sword. “For now, at least.”

 

“Hear that! I’M A LADY!!” The boy stuck his tongue out at his twin.

 

“No fair! I want to be a Lady! Ladies don’t have to fight, they just sing and play all day long!”

 

“Lord's do the exact same thing.” Byron had to smile, the bickering better than the roughhousing. “But neither of you will be Lords. Your destiny is to be Witchers.”

 

“What’s a Witcher?” Lady asked, their focus back on Byron's work.

 

“A monster.” Byron switched from the oils to the poisons, coating the sword for the night. “A monster that hunts other monsters.”

 

“Sounds boring.” Lady pulled their legs close to their body, scraped knees hiding a dirty face. “Monsters don’t kill monsters. They kill people. Pa said so.”

 

“Witchers don’t kill for sport. They kill for coin. Besides, do you know what separates man from monster?”

 

Lady looked back at their twin. Lord was asleep, curled in on himself and clutching the furs to his face. Then they looked back at Byron, green eyes meeting yellow. They picked up an empty vial rolling it in their dirt covered hands. Byron had to close his eyes before yanking the glass from the child’s hands. He sheathed his sword and moved to lay down for the night.

 

“... Is it visible?” Lady asked, not moving from their spot.

 

“Sometimes. Goodnight, Lady.” the witcher turned away from his ward, closing his eyes to go to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Kaer Morhen was halfway through construction, the snow finally melted in the mountains. Byron found the Path, forcing the twins to run alongside the horse as he kicked it into a trot. Lady and Lord were panting by the time they had reached the gates. He got off and handed the reins over to one of the servants.

 

He scanned the courtyard, and found the other Grandmasters. Snapping his fingers, the twins followed close behind. After a month of travel, they had learned not to upset the Grandmaster for the School of the Cat.

 

“Byron.” The Wolf said, keeping his distance from The Cat.

 

“Lovely craftsmanship.” Byron sneered. “A pity you don’t like sharing.”

 

“The Cat’s have a fortress of their own. In Nazir.” The Wolf snapped; it was then he noticed the twins. “Who are they?”

 

“Well, I bring a gift. I wish to train these two, here. While I’m here, I know that the other schools will drop by. Might do you well to learn a thing or two from our teachings.”

 

“... What are their names?”

 

“This is Lord, and this is Lady. They picked them out themselves.” Byron sniffed, watching as the other Grandmaster knelt down to have a look at them.

 

“Twins? That’s quite rare.”

 

“I have a few things in mind.”

 

“No.” The Wolf stood up, his face centimeters away from Byron. “I won’t have your,  _ experiments _ taint these walls.”

 

“We need to prepare for the worse. How many did we lose once they started on the Path? We need solutions, not excuses.”

 

“We can’t stray from the wizard’s concoctions. The Trails are hard enough on their bodies. Three out of ten barely survive.”

 

“And why is that, do you think? If we don’t figure it out ourselves then we’re doomed to die!” Byron spat back. Then he felt a tug on his pants leg.

 

“I know the difference!” Lady said, her twin trying to stop her from answering. “Monsters don’t think!”

 

The Wolf raised an eyebrow at Byron. The Cat stared back, then grinned. He picked up Lord, Lady looking at The Wolf with curiosity. The Wolf stood up straighter, snorting at the wards before marching off.

 

“Lady, you idiot! They were talking!” Lord whispered, the boy’s hands holding onto Byron’s harness.

 

“FUCK YOU!” Lady screamed, laughing like a maniac as two workers jumped at the sound of his voice. Lord forgot his fear, giggling as his identical twin started to repeat the phrase over and over.

 

Byron led the two to the dorms, dropping them off with the other candidates. Their training would begin tomorrow. Byron felt giddy, the possibilities endless. After all, how often did you get the chance to experiment on identical twins?


	2. First Meeting- 8 years old

Lady slammed the training sword down again, the boy under her screaming as his arm broke. Lord was next to her, holding his own weapon at the group that was trying to help their friend. One of the larger boys, someone from the School of Bear, came rushing forward. Lord ducked under, positioning his sword to strike at the older boy’s groin. He toppled, Lord swinging down to hit the boy in the back of his head. 

 

Lady’s own wooden sword splintered, so she switched to her fists, holding the other boy up so she could have better leverage. Lord was busy with his larger prey, but two other initiates used that to their advantage, dragging Lady off of their friend. One tried to hit Lady in the gut, but she pulled her legs up just in time, catching the fist in the shin. She kicked out, her boot knocking out a tooth. She then twisted her upper body, biting into the other boy’s arm, his scream echoing across the training ground.

 

Lord had the larger boy pinned at this point, using his dirty fingernails to try and claw out the boy’s eyes out.

 

“TAKE IT BACK!” Lord screamed, sitting up on the boy’s back, moving his arm into an impossible angle. “TAKE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!”

 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” the boy cried, blood and tears mixing on his chin, the dust from the training ground catching it.

 

“LORD! LADY! THAT’S ENOUGH!” one of the trainers was rushing over to the group, the twins winning by a wide margin.

 

Lady found herself pulled away from the other boys, tasting blood in her mouth. She saw her first victim, one of the trainers holding his arm so that the bone could be set back in place. Lord was grabbed by his ear, one of his eyes swollen, but his own victims were in far worse condition.

 

An hour later, they were sitting on one legged stools, waiting outside their Master’s room. Lady was having a hard time breathing through her nose, but the exercise called for it. Lord had told her that someone had broken her nose at the start of the fight. She looked over at her twin, his black eye now an ugly shade of purple.

 

Byron opened the door and snapped his fingers. The two troublemakers stood up and brought their stools into the room. There was a small table to the side, their meals set out. Lady looked at her twins meal; his food was normal, no mushrooms or strange pigments like her own. She was stopped by Byron, who held her head up with his hands.

 

“Who started it.” He snapped.

 

She didn’t answer. The witcher was cold, his emotions bred out of him. Byron held her nose between his fingers, counting backwards in Nilfgaardian. Suddenly his wrist twisted, and Lady felt more blood run down the front of her face. Byron patted her shaved head and pointed at her meal.

 

When they had first arrived at Kaer Morhen, they were allowed to eat with the other initiates. But Lord was given a different diet than the rest of them. At first, it was nothing unusual, the meals they were given were usually the same. But slowly the amount of strange mushrooms started to increase. Lady and the other boys started to get sick, their bodies rejecting the diet at first. Lord was ahead in training… for a few months. Then the changes began. Lady was able to hold her breath longer, able to run the Path without hurling her breakfast afterwards. Lord was falling behind, and it didn’t take a genius to see why. So Lady and the other boys started to share their food with Lord. He started to get sick, but Byron found out.

 

For the past year, Lady and Lord were separated during mealtimes, eating under Byron’s watchful eye. He said it was because they were meant to be Cats, not Wolves. Lord had been taken to see a doctor, and his illness left him… but he was still falling behind. So he was given extra lessons at night, his body covered in more bruises than his twin. Lady didn’t like it, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had tried, but each time she was punished. After a while, she gave up.

 

Lady ate her meal, the stool a constant reminder to her that she couldn’t relax. Lord was halfway done with his meal when she sat down, his own shaved head still covered in dirt and blood from the fight. Lady tested out her nose, and smiled as she was able to breath again.

 

“It was Trov.” Lord said, his mouth full of food. “He said Lady wasn’t a girl.”

 

“So you started a fight?” Byron sat half in the shadows, a book open on his lap.

 

“No,” Lady started, “I told him to piss off. Then he said that girl’s can’t be witchers-”

 

“So we said, ‘Why are you here then?” Lord finished. He swallowed his mouthful. “He swung at Lady, broke her nose.”

 

“The trainers informed me that you used the training swords against them.” Byron flipped to the next page.

 

“Practice is practice. Trov is a brainless bastard.” Lady drank the rest of her drink, correcting her stool as it wobbled under her. “He’ll never be a Witcher. He’s a monster.”

 

Byron chuckled, the empty stone walls making the sound echo. After their meal, they were told to go receive their punishment. Lord was given the stables, Lady the weaponry. She was being supervised by a visiting Witcher. 

 

He was tall, taller than anything Lady had ever seen. She knew he was from Skellige, the furs and two handed axe a dead give away. The trainer had told her that the Witcher was called Igor, and his medallion told her he was from the School of the Bear. He watched her as she stacked chipped and rusted weapons to one side, and dull ones on the other. He never said a word to her, which got on her nerves more than she thought.

 

“Do you talk?” Lady blurted out, not looking up from her work. Silence answered back.

 

“You’re really dull, you know.” Lady looked up, hoping to get a reaction. Nothing. “I guess you’re not very smart then. Byron says that a Witcher has to be clever, they can’t go around killing everything and anything. I heard that people from Skellige are pirates- are you a pirate?”

 

The giant of a Witcher was silent. He pulled out a small knife and an apple. He was cutting it into smaller pieces, and then he held out a slice for Lady to take.

 

“I ate.” she said. The Witcher still held the apple slice out. “I said, I ate.”

 

Lady’s stomach chose to growl at that moment. The Witcher started to laugh, but something was off. On a hunch, Lady grabbed the lantern from the ground and brought it up to the Witcher’s face. There, she saw it, the rope burn around his neck… and the lack of tongue in his mouth. Igor stopped laughing when the light hit is face. His mouth closed shut.

 

“You… you can’t talk, can you?” Lady put the lantern down, quickly grabbing the apple slice from his relaxed hand. “Why can’t you talk?”

 

Igor’s brow furrowed, his frustration obvious on his face. He pointed angrily at his throat, then he went back to cutting up his apple.

 

“Can you write? If you wrote it down, I could read it. I know how to read, so there’s no point in you not telling me.” Lady took another slice that Igor gave her, filling the empty space with words.

 

“Well, you can’t talk, so I guess I’ll talk for you. I guess they didn't tell you why I’m being punished, huh? Well, there’s a boy, his name is Trov, and he said I wasn’t a girl. I am a girl, don’t you forget it! I am a girl, my name is Lady after all. But Trov said that girls can’t be Witchers. They’re either sorceresses or whores and since I don’t know magic, that makes me a whore. I said no, I’m a girl AND a Witcher.

 

“Well Lord- he’s my brother, he’s at the stables right now- Lord said ‘Piss off Trov, Lady’s balls are bigger than yours’. It’s true, my balls are bigger, but I’m still a girl. So Trov said, ‘Girls can’t be Witchers, that’s a fact!’ and then we both said ‘So why are you here?’. Then he hit me, he broke my nose. I broke his arm. His friends tried to stop us, but a Witcher wins against all odds, see? So Lord fought them off, and I helped too. When we become Witchers, Lord and me are gonna be the greatest Cats that ever lived!

 

“I guess there are benefits to not talking though, huh? I bet you don’t get in trouble because of your mouth, huh? But still, how do you find jobs? You have to haggle, and Byron says you gotta have a silver tongue to haggle. I guess you don’t get a lot of money then, because you don’t have a tongue. How you going to make gold coin with no silver tongue? Oh, but we carry silver swords. Maybe that’s what Byron meant, using your swords when words don’t work. I bet you make heaps of coin then!”

 

Lady talked for the rest of the night, Igor sitting and listening to the initiate. By the time the sun rose up, Lady had finished her punishment and was too tired to move. Igor ended up scooping the ward up in his arms, making sure that no one saw him as he moved across the courtyard. He was stopped by his own Grandmaster.

 

“Igor… that child is Byron’s ward.” The Bear was incredibly old, his hair grey and wrinkles obvious on his face. “You have to return the boy to him.”

 

_ The child says they are a girl. _ Igor signed.  _ We should contact a magician. They could help them! Perhaps being a Witcher is not their destiny. _

 

“Igor. What does the child have?”

 

_ Does it matter? There are maidens who fight, men who smell nice. The child calls itself Lady, why can’t they be one? _

 

“We are Witchers. That child will become a Witcher.” The Bear’s eyes grew soft as Igor’s brow furrowed again. “It’s true, a lad or lass, it won’t matter in the end. This child is Byron’s ward. They will become a Witcher, and a Cat on top of that. Take the child back to Byron. And forget about it.”

 

Igor huffed, and did as he was told. Byron wasn’t found in his room, but Igor spotted the small cot. He placed Lady there, noticed that her twin was already asleep on the cot. Igor had seen the fight between the twins and the other initiates, had watched as this child broke his own ward’s arm with a wooden toy sword. It wasn’t very Cat-like… but that was probably for the best.

* * *

 

The Grandmasters were waiting for the Sorceress and the Priest. They came every year, in order to pick up the Surprises that were girls. This time they only had two: an infant and a crippled girl, barely ten years old. The Priest would take the infant, the Sorceress the cripple. But Trov had gotten to the Sorceress before anyone could stop him.

 

“I was told by the boy that you’re hiding another girl from us.” The Grandmasters didn’t move. “Where is she.”

 

“No idea.” Byron lied through his teeth.

 

The Sorceress squinted at The Cat. It was at this moment that the initiates came running up to the drawbridge. Lord and Lady were in the middle of the pack, but the moment they reached the castle walls, they started to climb the walls in order to cheat. The other boys ran past the Grandmasters and the Sorceress, some giving them odd looks. The Sorceress scanned the group, then looked up to see the twins on the wall. Lady had reached the top first, jumping from one battlement to the next. Lord finally reached his twin, forgoing his jumping practice. They both leapt from the edge of the wall down onto the inner rampart and cutting ahead of the other initiates.

 

“I win!” Lord screamed, collapsing on the ground.

 

“As if!” Lady was laughing at her twin, then saw the Sorceress.

 

The Sorceress looked directly at Lady, then turned to face The Cat. Byron raised on eyebrow at the magician, the other Grandmasters having moved to take their own initiates away for personal training.

 

“Which one is it?” The Sorceress crossed her arms.

 

Byron whistled, Lord and Lady coming over to him. Lady didn’t like the look on her Master’s face. He moved the twins to stand in front of him, as if showing off his prize, rather than his wards.

 

“Identical twins. A miracle, really. But in Nazair it’s considered a curse. Their father was all too happy to give them up, especially since the first Surprise died in childbirth. A shame, always did want a wife.” Byron’s hand moved up to their shaved scalps, his thumb rubbing circles into Lady’s scalp.

 

The Sorceress kneeled down to look at them. Lady didn’t look away, fascinated by the woman. She had never actually seen a grown woman before, having been surrounded by Witchers for as long as she could remember. Long hair and makeup, her skirts were of a much higher quality than anything Lady knew of. And her cleavage, on full display. It seemed impractical, no armor and hair flowing loose. Lady knew a few Witchers who had long hair, but it was more out of lack of trimming- this wasn’t like that.

 

“What are you two called?” Her voice was smooth, like summer honey.

 

“I’m Lord, that’s Lady.” her twin sniffed, trying to hide that he was out of breath still. “You’re really pretty.”

 

“Lady,” the Sorceress looked at her, ignoring Lord completely. “What do you want to be?”

 

“A witcher.”

 

“Ladies do not become Witchers.”

 

“Then I’ll be the first.” Lady raised her head, remembering her fight with Trov. Pretty or not, Lady would take this Sorceress down.

 

“I could make you a girl.” She continued. “You don’t have to grow a beard and I could make you just as pretty as I am. Would you like that? To become a real lady?”

 

Lady glanced at Lord. Her twins eyes were wide, looking back and forth between her and the Sorceress. She didn’t want to leave her twin, they were supposed to become Witchers together! Right?

 

“Can Lord come too?” Lady asked.

 

“... No. Just you.”

 

“I don’t want to. Either we become Witchers or we don’t. Lord and me are going to be together forever, see? So we either gonna be Witchers or we gonna be Magicians. Ain’t gonna be alone, ever.”

 

The Sorceress shot up and gave Byron a dirty look. The Cat just smiled, and took the twins away for further training.

 

Later that night, in their cot, Lord was quieter than usual. He sat in silence for well over an hour before he spoke up.

 

“Why didn’t you go? You could have been a girl, a real girl.”

 

“I’m not leaving you! I don’t need tits to be a girl, or a cock to be Witcher. I’m Lady, and you’re Lord! Ain’t nothing going to take that away from us.”

 

“But you could have gotten changed and then come back! I would have waited…”

 

“That hag wasn’t gonna let me come back. She’s a Sorceress, you remember what Byron said, yeah? They take kids and they never give them back.”

 

“... When we become Witchers, we’ll look for a way to make you a girl, okay?”

 

“Okay. Good night, Lord.”


	3. Trail of the Grasses- 11 years old

Byron watched as the mage measured out the extractions and potions. Mother’s Tears. Wildrye Juice. Speargrass Sap. He checked Lord and Lady’s bindings again, wondering not for the first time if this was going to be worth it.

 

The moment he had gotten his hands on the twins, he knew what he wanted to do. The Choice was a two way process- the first was the physical training and teaching of monsters. The second was the diet. With identical twins, Byron would be able to see how much the diet affected the growth of an initiative. Lady was the weaker of the two of them, originally, so he opted for Lord to not be given the Choice. And it had worked. While Lady suffered the drawbacks of the Choice, the fevers, the vomiting, the migraines, he would take Lord out and have him train as much as possible. Then the side effects subsided, only for the Choice to be increased again and again. Lady’s body was prepared for the Grasses, her last fever broke two months ago. Today was their birthdays.

 

“Ready when you are, Grandmaster.” The mage said.

 

“Together.” Byron stood up, watching the twins.

 

The first grass was injected, the reaction immediate. Lord screamed out in pain, Lady going into convulsions. Byron counted in his head, watching their reactions for his research. The point of this experiment was to see if the Choice actually did anything for the body. How many times had he done this Trail, not having the freedom to test out his hypothesis? The other schools were too afraid to test mutations this early in the stage. Always opting for further advancements to occur much later, sometimes after the Trails themselves. Seven years of study, of careful analysis and it came down to this. What would happen if neither survived the trail? Byron guessed he could always go look for another pair of twins. But if even one of them survived then it would be a success. He could dissect the corpses as well, but it was too soon to think of such things. Byron nodded again at the mage, the second grass entering the twins bodies.

 

Lord’s head was strapped to the table, but he saw his twin out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t screaming, but he saw her body shaking, the sweat stinging his eyes. His blood was on fire, the trail burning inside of him. It was too much, way too much, he couldn’t do this, not again. Please! Someone help! Anyone, please just let him go! Lord had no idea he was screaming out loud, but he felt his Master near. He was fighting against his restraints, wanting to tear out of them and kill the mage. Lord caught Byron’s eyes, the yellow slit expanded in his Master’s eye. Byron moved forward, gripping Lord’s wrist. The boy stopped screaming, tears beginning to pour out.

 

“Master, please…” Lord felt the fire in his blood turn into a thousand shards of glass.

 

Byron watched as Lord passed out, the boy’s eyes rolling back into his head. He tested the pulse, erratic and wild. The mage was checking Lady’s pulse, the body now still. They were sweating, their temperature incredibly high. So far, so good. Byron nodded again, the final decoction require. The mage released the final vial, then immediately started the stabilizing magic. Byron moved over to the table, mixing his personal blend of mutagens. 

 

The School of the Cat was different from the other schools, primarily because they focused in urban areas. Mutagens from a Cockatrice, and Fiend. Saliva of a Nixa and the sweat glands of a Succubus, the more unique blends in the added to the mix. Byron added a few drops of his own blood, the concoctions having been brewed beforehand now ready to be added to the initiates. He poured out the right amount for the two, making sure each were given an exact amount. The Cat heard Lord start to whimper, pleading to the mage to let him go.

 

“Ignore the boy.” Byron snapped, moving over to tables. “This is his destiny.”

 

Lord watched as his master started to add more liquid to his drip. Frantically he looked over to his twin. Was she dead? She was barely breathing, her eyes fluttering open and closed. She was so pale, the last two weeks gave her body ample time to heal from any bruising. Her chest was white as a sheet, covered in sweat. Lord tried to look at himself, his own bruises a sickly yellow and green on his arm. The boy started to scream again, the poison in his blood tearing him apart. He felt a gloved hand on his head, his Master was casting a sign. Lord didn’t lose consciousness, but he stopped screaming. The world was sharp and dull, his body rejecting the Trail.

 

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.” Over and over, Lord repeated the sentence.

 

Byron opened Lady’s eyes, and saw that some of the blood vessels in her eyes had popped. She was going to have red circles around her iris if she survived. He clicked his tongue, looking at the mage. His magics were focused more on Lord, Lady barely being given help.

 

“Idiot! They need the same amount of healing!” Byron snapped, grabbing the mage to stand in the middle of the tables. “If you can’t do something so fucking simple I’ll slit your throat and use you for their teas!”

 

“I’m sorry, but the younger boy he’s-”

 

“It’s his destiny! Now heal them equally!”

 

* * *

 

Lady woke up, not knowing where she was. Her body was drained, but the room seemed… brighter than it should be. She looked around, noticed the other initiates in cots. A mage was moving from one bed to the next, checking on bodies and crying initiates.

 

She sniffed the air, smelling decay in the cot to her right. She looked over, saw Trov looking right at her. His eyes were glazed, body stiff. Then a fly landed on his open eye, stood there for a moment and left. Lady pulled her legs into herself, sitting up from her bed. The mage took notice, and came to sit on the cot with her.

 

“What’s your name, young man?”

 

“... He’s dead. Trov, over there.”

 

“Yes, I’m afraid he died during the night. Were you close to him?”

 

“No… I broke his arm once. He said girls can’t be Witchers. Proved him wrong, didn’t I?” Lady gave a short laugh, but it fell short when the mage look at her again.

 

“... You’re Lady, aren’t you?” The mage sighed, pouring her a glass of tea. “Drink this.”

 

“How long have I been out?” Lady asked, sipping the tea. Her throat was parched; she drained the cup without ever tasting it.

 

“About four days. You’re actually the first to wake up. I’m supposed to take you out of here, but… Your brother, he’s not awake yet.”

 

“Where’s Lord?” Lady tried to get up, but the mage had his hand on her knee.

 

“He’s fine, he’s recovering right now. Don’t try to get up so fast, you’re still weak from the Trial.” Lady shoved the mage’s hand off her knee, looking around in a room that was too bright, the moon shining brighter than the sun  ever did through the windows.

 

“Where’s my brother?” Lady asked, her voice frantic.

 

“Don’t move- Ow!” the mage was struggling to control the ward. “Alright! Alright, I’ll show you your twin, just- slow down!”

 

The mage got up from the cot, catching Lady as her legs gave out from under her. He walked her over to a different cot, on the other side of the room. Lord looked like he was asleep, but he was mumbling, his breathing too fast. Lady let go of the mage, half falling onto her twin’s cot. She could  _ smell him. _ The mage shuffled away, giving the two some privacy.

 

“Lord.” Lady whispered. “Lord, wake up. Lord, please wake up.”

 

Lord was twitching, his body covered in a cold sweat. Lady moved her body, laying next to her twin, watching his chest rise and fall at a rapid pace. The mage came back, the blanket from her cot in his arms. He quietly put the blanket over Lady, being careful not to cover Lord. Lady absentmindedly moved the blanket to cover her twin, ignoring the mage’s protest.

 

“He’s cold.” She snapped, not looking up. “He needs to cover up.”

 

Night turned into day. Trov’s corpse was picked up and taken away by The Bear. Lady didn’t leave her twin’s side. Another day passed before other initiates started to wake up. Most of them were Wolves, but the Griffin initiate had also survived. They had come to talk with Lady, the initiates from the other schools having a kinship mostly because they weren’t Wolves. The boy didn’t stay long, his Grandmaster taking him out of the room. Fifty boys had undergone the Trail. Twenty have died. Ten woke up in total so far, but it was only the fifth day. Lord switched from screaming in his sleep, to shaking, but he still hadn’t shown any improvement. Lady refused to leave the room, not even after one of the trainers tried to remove her.

 

By the third night Byron finally came to see them. Lady had been asleep when he walked in, but she was finding that her senses were heightened. She smelled him, the mix of the poisons and perfume sharper now than it ever was. She opened her eyes, yellow reflected back at her. He had a small mirror with him. She sat up, Lord’s face finding her thigh and moving closer to her. Byron sat at the bottom of the cot, then handed Lady the mirror.

 

“Congratulations, Lady. You are now a Witcher.” Byron waited as Lady looked at her reflection.

 

Lady had only ever seen her reflection a few times, but never with a mirror. It was usually in a pond or windowpane. She was told looked exactly like Lord, being his twin. But now she saw that her nose had a small bump. She touched it, saw the fingers touching the nose in the reflection. Lady tilted her head, watching her own hand travel across her face. Thin lips, her cheekbones more prominent than they ever felt. She looked thin, as if she had never had a decent meal. The truth was that she hadn’t eaten since she woke up- she didn’t feel hungry. Her ears were smaller than she expected, just as close to her skull as her twins.

 

Then she saw her eyes. They used to be green, but now they were yellow like Byron’s. She pulled down an eyelid, saw the broken blood vessels around her iris. It was menacing. Monstrous. She saw her pupil shrink and expand, the slit fascinating. She looked back up at Byron.

 

“Lord won’t wake up.” Lady handed back the mirror, a thousand questions pushed aside to protect her brother.

 

“Give him some time. He had… difficulties during the Trail.”

 

“I don’t- I don’t remember the Trail. Is that bad?”

 

“No, that’s common. It’ll come back to you, in time.” Byron’s hand brushed against Lord’s ankle. “I didn’t remember my own trail, at the beginning.”

 

“My eyes… are they gonna be- I mean- The  _ red _ , it’s not permanent is it?”

 

“... It might be.”

 

“...”

 

“Worried about your looks, Lady?”

 

“... You don’t have the red.”

 

“True, but I didn’t have… complications.”

 

“Did I do something wrong? During the Trail, did I- is this my punishment?” Lady pointed at her eyes.

 

“You did nothing wrong, Lady. Actually, you didn’t even scream out during the Trail. I don’t know if that’s because you were being brave, or are incredibly strong.”

 

“... Lord won’t wake up. He has to wake up, we’re supposed to be Witchers together!”

 

“He’ll wake up.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Because he’s awake right now.” Byron chuckled.

 

Lady looked down at her twin. Yellow eyes met her own, his fever still high and breath too short. But her twin was awake. She helped him sit up, his body shaking as he was pulled out from his cocoon. His shirt was drenched in sweat, so Lady quickly took off her own and gave it Byron. Lady peeled off Lord’s shirt and then grabbed her own shirt to put on his body. Byron watched his greatest achievement, a successful change without the Choice.

 

“Lady…” Lord croaked.

 

“I’m here.” Lady held her twin, rubbing his arms. “I’m right here. It’s okay, we’re Witchers now!”

 

Byron got up, his excitement getting to him. He needed to write this down before he forgot.

 

Lord threw up, the two of them sitting in vomit. Then he started to talk.

 

“He was going to kill us. Master doesn’t care. I saw him, he’s going to give us tea and we’re going to be killed. We can’t stay, we have to get out, Lady we need to go we need to-” Lord threw up again, but this time it was blood.

 

Lady panicked, not knowing what was going on with her twin. She looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on. Lord screamed, alerting the guard at the door… and Byron who was only a few feet away from the door. Byron ran into the room, saw Lady covered in blood and vomit, the young witcher trying to hold her twin closer as his body convulsed. Lord was clawing at his twins arms, his screaming getting higher and higher, the boy forgetting to breathe.

 

Byron grabbed Lady away, and now they were both screaming. The mage came rushing over, starting a spell- only for Lord to grab his throat. The boy started to beat the mage with his fists, his newly awakened strength activating. Byron held Lady away, but he couldn’t turn his eyes away from the carnage. Lord got his third punch in before the mage went limp, his skull caving in. Lord continued to hit the corpse, bone shards breaking his knuckles. Lord then switched to tearing apart the jaw, ripping skin and muscle to get rest of the tongue out. Lady was screaming at her twin, begging him to stop. Byron smiled, watching his greatest achievement. Two more witchers past by him, not realizing that The Cat was  _ smiling _ .

 

Lord was locked away, but Byron visited his protege every night. The boy had gone insane, having been awake for the entire Trail. Lady was told to recover with the other initiates, but Byron didn’t care about her anymore. He wanted to shape Lord into a tool, an example of the perfect Witcher.

 

Lady spent the rest of the week with the other survivors. Including Lord, twelve boys survived the Grasses. Two Cats, eight Wolves, a Griffin, and a Viper. Trov, the Bear initiate, had died from complications, his lungs filling with fluid. The Trail was done in groups of ten, with one member coming from a different School. In reality, Lady and Lord had been split from their group at the last minute, Grandmaster Byron claiming that the secret to his School’s mutagens too valuable to be seen. The mage that had aided him was killed by Lord, but he was a pupil of Kaer Morhen personal mage. When Lord was finally released, Lady ran over to her twin. His eyes looked better than hers… and he was no longer covered in bruises.

 

“How do you feel?” Lady asked.

 

“I… I can’t. I’m a Witcher.” Lord replied. His eyes were so cold. It was like looking at Byron. A chill went down Lady’s spine.

 

“Good.” Lady smiled. “That makes two of us.”


	4. Broken Names- 14 years old

Their first Trial was a success, even if it ended in horror. The second Trial was easier- but Lord had been taken away at the last minute, Byron giving him a different mix of mutagens. Lady had fallen asleep halfway through the second Trail, only to wake up a week later, able to see in the dark. She stayed with the other initiates more and more. After the second Trial, she was told to move into the dorms with the other trainees. It was then that she found out what the others thought of her and her twin.

 

“I heard that Cats are assassins, using poisons and dirty tricks!” sneered Geogg.

 

“I heard Wolves are filled with a bunch cowards- that’s why you keep using Quen in a fight.” Lady said back, ignoring him, mostly.

 

“Take it back!” Geogg jumped up from his chair.

 

“Make me.” Lady didn’t move, focused on the book in front of her.

 

“That’s enough, Geogg.” The Grandmaster snapped.

 

Lady hid her smirk as Geogg sat back down, glaring daggers into her skull. The rest of the lesson went by without issue- until sword practice. Lord was allowed to train with them during that time, which meant that Lady might be able to figure out what kind of special training.

 

Lord parried her attack, bringing a foot up to push her away. Spring meant warmer weather, warmer meant that they trained with no shirts. Lady fell down, felt the stones scrap her bare shoulders. She picked up the weapon, bringing it crossways to block Lords next strike. A knee to the groin and the identical twins rolled. Lady jumped back up, lunging forward for a new attack. It caught Lord in his shoulder. His eyes narrowed before he cast a Sign.

 

Igni stream, countered with Quen. Lady had to continuously cast the Sign, but Lord just walked forward, a constant stream of sparks and fire aimed at her. She ducked, shouldering up into her twins chest, shoving away, his focus on the Sign lost control. She stood on one wrist, a knee to his opposite shoulder, dull sword an inch away from his throat.

 

“Match.” Lady pants, a smile on her face.

 

Lord’s eyes are cold, nostrils flared. Someone is clapping not that far away from them. Lady gets up to greet Byron- just as Lord sweeps his legs, putting his twin in a headlock. Foolishly, Lady thinks it’s a game and grabs his leg, pulling it up and putting her weight into his body. They fall to the ground, roughhousing like they were four all over again. Until Lord bites into Lady’s shoulder, growling like an animal.

 

“Enough.” Byron barks. Lord let's go, standing at attention.

 

Lady puts her hand to her neck and feels blood. Byron stands in front of her, eyes just as cold as Lord’s. The Cat sighs, rolling his eyes at the weakness in one of his wards. Lady feels shame, getting up from her spot in the ground, going to stand next to her brother.

 

“Today you will be given real names. No more Lord or Lady nonsense. And if I have to here from the other witchers that you still insist on being a woman, then I’ll take your head myself. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Master.” Lord spoke. Lady didn’t say anything.

 

“Lord. From now on, you will be Bran. Lady… you are Garrett. Understand?”

 

“Yes, Master Byron.” Lord spoke again. 

 

Byron was looking at Lady. She refused to meet the witcher’s eyes. She heard him give a heavy sigh, before stepping up to her, grabbing her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him.

 

“Answer me, Garrett.”

 

She didn’t speak up. Lord glanced at his twin, then his master. There was a tension, one that made Lord uneasy. Usually Lady would back down, but now… now his twin wasn’t budging.

 

“Answer. Me.” Byron growled.

 

“My name is Lady.” She said, glaring right back.

 

“You are not a lady. You are a witcher.” Byron snapped.

 

“My name.” Lady shoved Bryon’s hand off her face. “Is Lady. And his name is Lord.”

 

“Is it now?” Byron sneered, turning his attention to Lord. “What is your name, my ward. Is it Bran? Or is it Lord?”

 

“It’s-” Lord looked at his twin- she was still glaring at Byron. “It’s Bran, Master Byron.”

 

Lady’s head snapped back at Lord. He could sense the betrayal, could smell the shock on his twin’s body. Byron smiled, a soft chuckle rising from his chest, getting stuck in throat. Then as fast as lightning, he struck Lady square in the face. Lord flinched, standing at attention rather than move to protect his twin.

 

“Bran, you’ve done well in the last Trail. Now all that is left is the Trail of the Mountain, which you will you both take on your sixteenth birthday. You can study with the others now. Garrett. Get up.”

 

Lady refused to move, staying on the ground. Byron sighed again, rolling his eyes at the teenager at his feet.

 

“Get. Up. Now.”

 

Lady spat, a little blood followed.

 

“Fuck you.” Lady mumbled, getting up from the ground.

 

“... When you decide to stop this trivial shit, come find me. Otherwise, you will not belong to the School of the Cat.” Byron took a step closer, speaking into her ear. “And don’t think that the other Grandmasters might take you. You’re already spoiled goods- they don’t want to tarnish their special schools with your kind.”

 

Byron left them standing on the battlements. Lord felt his madness creeping in again, but he hadn’t seen his twin in months, at least in private like this. Lady spun around, coughing up blood on the battlements. She was shaking, from exertion and anger. Lord paused, but then walked up to his twin, putting an arm around her shoulder.

 

“I can’t fucking take this!” Lady cried. “The fucker! When we get out of here- If we get out of here, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

 

“I’m sorry.” Lord croaked out, the madness at the edges of his mind. “I-I’m not strong enough yet. We’ll kill him, soon. I promise, we’ll kill him together. Just- just for now, go by Garrett. It’ll be easier.”

 

“FUCK HIM! AND FUCK GARRETT!” Lady shoved Lord away, her twin falling to the ground. “I’m Lady, and you’re Lord! Don’t let him take that from you! Don’t let ANYONE take that from you!”

 

The madness hit Lord in full force, and he clutched his head screaming in pain. Lady stopped, dropping to her knees, clutching Lord to her chest. Lord scratched at her arms and his face, trying to pull the skin off. The sound of several boots came running up, Lady looked up and saw the Wolves, but she refused to be seperated from Lord. It took wrapping Lord in both of their shirts, the boy biting down iron rod in order to calm him down for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

“You did WHAT?” The Wolf barked.

 

“Calm down, it was a success.” Byron said, bored of the meeting.

 

“It didn’t work at all! Lord is half-mad, it’s only gonna take one more mutation before he becomes completely feral-”

 

“Bran.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Lord is no longer the boys name. It is Bran, he chose himself.”

 

“And if we asked Lady, would she confirm this?” The Griffin said.

 

“Lady is a boy. And his name is Garrett, and yes, if you asked Bran, they chose these names themselves.” Byron yawned, popping his jaw in the process.

 

“Forgive me, Cat,” The Viper drawled. “But your school has been known to take in female wards in its ranks in the past- what difference does it make for Garrett to be a woman?”

 

“The former Grandmaster took female Surprises and tried to make them Witchers, true.” Byron said. “But that experimentation proved fruitless. Complications occurred during the second Trail, primarily from the sterilization, left us with more cripples than potential witchers. I stopped the practice when I was named Grandmaster, along with inclusion of elves in our ranks.”

 

“We understand this, however.” The Wolf spoke. “The Choice is done for  _ specific _ reasons. The fact that you hid from us that you did not give The Choice to Bran, and then continued to mutate him- even going so far as to combine him with lycanthropes- is out of line!”

 

“If Bran is able to withstand such mutations, even after the initial mutations, think of the possibilities, Wolf. We all learn from one another, but we could do to seperate ourselves from more than just our medallions and tactics.”

 

“... I agree with the Cat.” the Manticore spoke up. The Viper nodded in agreement. “However, I do not agree with the Cat on not giving the boy The Choice.”

 

“Garrett was given the Choice, and has only undergone the traditional mutations. With the permission from this council of Grandmasters, I wish to place further mutagens into Garrett- in hopes of seeing the outcome.”

 

“That is out of the question!” The Wolf snapped. “You have gone behind our backs with Bran and we will not-”

 

“Granted, on several conditions.” The Griffin interjected.

 

The Wolf looked between The Griffin and The Cat before muttering under his breath and sitting back down. Byron nodded his head, ready to hear what they wished.

 

“The first is that you hand over your notes on Bran’s progress and specific mutagens. If we are to separate ourselves, it is best to understand where you have differed him. The second is that Garrett will be given a physical by a witcher from this table. One as a base, and then one after every altercation. On top of this Garrett will not be isolated from the other initiates, he will remain with other wards.”

 

“Granted, anything else?”

 

“Yes. Hire a mage to deal with Bran’s madness. Find a solution, and if possible, a cure. I saw the wounds that Garrett was given by his twin- they were horrendous; your ward is lucky to be alive. If you cannot find solution, we will kill Bran before he kills anyone of us.”

 

Byron clenched his teeth but bowed in acceptance. Soon after, the meeting was called to an end.

 

* * *

 

It took a week before Lady found herself in front of Byron’s rooms. Before she could even knock, Byron called out for her to enter. The young ward entered the room, greeted with half shadows and piercing yellow cat eyes in the dark.

 

“... Answer me, Garrett.” Byron called out.

 

Lady closed the door, adjusting her eyes to the darkness, picking up on Byron’s face. She walked up to the desk, stopping a foot away.

 

“... Sir.” Lady spoke, venom in her voice.

 

“Well, well, you can take orders.” Byron stood up, walking around the desk to take in his other ward. “As a Cat, you are to be trained in urban combat. Poisons are your friend, and you must be as efficient with a dagger as you are with a silver sword. But there is… another thing you must be.”

 

Lady stood at attention, not trusting her voice.

 

“You must be better than the average Witcher. And that… will require further mutations. I will teach you how to inject them into yourself, how to pull specific mutagens and combine yourself with these monsters. Now, shall we begin, Garrett?”

 

“... Yes, sir.”


	5. Long Winters- 16 years old

Wolves are spellswords, blending signs with swords. Griffins love the hunt, seeking glory over coin. Bears preferred bombs and brute force. The Manticores had died off and the Snakes were just a sub-branch of Cats, ones that relied more on strength than cunning.

 

Cats had poison. Their blood was caustic, thicker skin and scars that if not treated properly would fester and boil. Their blades were venomous, dipped in acid and bathed in toxins rather than oil. A daggers that had to be held in dragon kin hide in order to keep its edge. They had shadows and alleyways, learning to climb up rather than run away. Lions among men, feral creatures even within the Witcher guild.

 

And that’s exactly what Lady Cat was- A Feral Hunter. The Path around Kar Morhen was covered in heavy forest, the initiates who had yet to undergo their first Trails running it. She waited up in the branches, running and leaping from branch to branch, hiding her breathing, mimicking the sounds of birds and wolves. One initiate fumbled, falling behind in the pack. She waited, scanning the branches.

 

Lord dropped down next to the initiate, baring his teeth and pulling a dagger close to the boy’s throat. With her yellow eyes she watched, waited. Listened. The boy was a mess, only just arriving a week before. Her twin was whispering something about death around every branch, before pulling back, slinking back into the shadows. One of the apprentices came out- a Wolf by his walk. To normal men, he might have been quiet as a field mouse- but to a Cat waiting in hiding, it was loud enough. Lady jumped down to a lower branch, moving until she could step lower still. In the dead of winter, not even a young Wolf would think to look up for his killer.

 

“C’mon Adi,” the apprentice spoke. “Catch up with the others, or you won’t get any breakfast.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Run along now.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Lady glanced over, saw Lord perched twenty feet above her, a snowball in his hands. The Wolf took a step towards The Path before pausing, sensing he was being watched.

 

“... Cat.”

 

“Wolf.” Lady said.

 

“Why did Adi have a cut on his neck?”

 

“You should watch after your pups- wouldn’t want kits like me to have an easy kill.”

 

“I’ll report this to the Grandmasters.”

 

“Go ahead.” Lord spoke up. “Let them know you failed to keep your wards safe.”

 

The apprentice pulled out his sword, pelted in the face by a snowball mid draw. Lady dropped down, pulling out her daggers, forcing the other witcher in training to hit the tree ground. The snow that touched metal hissed, melting when it came into contact with the poison on her steel.

 

“You’re dead.” Lady hissed, baring her teeth. “Run back to your Master and tell him that.”

 

A ran her blade across his chin- enough to mark him, not enough to cut. Lady stood up, sheathing her daggers, the silver sword on her back not moving while she did so. She helped up the other witcher, watching him leave in the snow. Lord came down, tried to stalk after him but she stopped her twin.

 

“Why didn’t you mark him?” Lord asked.

 

“I did.” Lady looked at her twin, like staring at a twisted reflection. “Just a small mark Lord, we’re not suppose break skin.”

 

Lord snorted, rolling his eyes.

 

“You’re too weak, brother.”

 

She hit him in the face, breaking his nose.

 

“Sister.”

 

Lord cursed, quickly snapping his nose back in place, throwing fresh snow on top. She watched on, saw white mix with dark blood- darker than it should for a human.

 

“Come on, Byron isn’t coming back today.”

 

“He said he’d come back.”

 

“When winter is over- the snow still falls on the bottom of the mountain.”

 

“He might be coming-”

 

“He won’t. He didn’t come back this time last year. He’s not coming. We’re on our own for winter. Again.”

 

“... He promised he would be back…”

 

“Well he’s not!” Lady snapped. “He left us to the fucking dogs! Another winter of fucking Signs and Swords! Another cold, shitty, fucking miserable winter! And you’re stuck with me, so you can cry about it all you want!”

 

Lord started to mutter under his breath, clutching his head with his hands.

 

“Yea go on!” Lady yelled. “Try and block it out! Those voices aren’t leaving you fuck! They’re here forever! Just! Like! Us!”

 

“Make it stop… Please make it stop…”

 

“WHY? SO YOU CAN JUST GO AND KILL ANOTHER WHORE’S SON? I’m done!! I’m sick of hiding the fucking bodies for you! Why don’t you try killing a real monster for a change, huh!?”

 

“That boy- he was a monster I just- I know it.”

 

“SAYS WHO!?”

 

“Lady,” Lord looked up, yellow cat eyes wide with fear. “Please- help me… I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAAAAAA-”

 

Lord’s left hand reached over to a hidden dagger in his leathers, the cold air causing the blade to steam in the open air. He moved to slice his own hand off- only for Lady to grab her twin’s arm, yanking it away. Lord started to scream and howl, face growing more hair as she watched.

 

The lycanthrope mutagens in Lord made him stronger than his lithe form let on. It also meant that when adrenaline ran high, he would grow more hair, already pointed canines starting to grow out of his skull, becoming canines. A horrendous mid transformation- one that remained in this half witcher, half tiger shape.

 

Lady forced Lord to let go of the dagger, but the scarf that was tucked underneath her leathers was pulled off with his hand. A heady scent filled the woods- cut wheat and sweat. Lady’s own mutagens, a blend of hag and incubus, was the only thing stopping Lord from lashing out. Hag to confuse, Incubus to subdue. She pushed his head down into cold snow, opening her arms so that her sweat was exposed to the air, the cold bite of northern winters not her biggest concern right now.

 

“I’m here, Lord.” Lady didn’t let up the pressure. “I’m right here.”

 

She watched as her twin’s madness spell became a seizure, his body forcing itself back from it’s transformation, becoming her reflection once more. She wanted to cry- her mutations wouldn’t allow her. They sat there in the snow, the sun coming up slowly, pure white changing into pale pink and orange, only to finally settle of blue. Lord slowly got up, staring at his twin as she dusted off her leathers.

 

“... We should go.”

 

He nodded, still seated in the snow.

 

“We did the Grasses… the Dreams was last year… We’ll just have to wait until spring for the Mountain.”

 

“And then we can leave?”

 

Lady looked up, saw Kar Morhen looming from afar, the frozen lake to her right.

 

“Then we can leave. We’ll be real Witchers.”

 

“I don’t want to be a Witcher.” Lord pulled his legs forward, face streaked with tears. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

 

“We don’t have a choice.” Lady started to walk back up The Path. “No one can change fate. Especially not Witchers like us.”

 

Lord cried, climbing up the trees like the Cat he was born to be. Lady watched his figure dance and leap across bare branches. She wish she could cry- she hated not being exactly like her twin anymore.


	6. The Last Trail- 21 years old

“Bran, Garrett. Come here.”

 

Lady remained in her seat while Lord stood up, walking over to stand next to Byron. She blinked slowly at her master, legs spread on the chair, one foot resting on top of the table.

 

“Garrett. Come.” Byron said

 

“I’m not a dog.” Lady sneered, taking a bite of the apple she had nicked from the kitchens.

 

A dagger is thrown into her apple, poison already making the fruit curl and spoil. Lady looked up just in time to see Byron pull on a thin string, the apple and dagger coming back to him so he could catch it. Lord stared at his twin, eyes begging her to stand up. She sighed, getting up from her spot, walking slowly, arms behind her back, playing with the throwing knife that rested inside her leathers.

 

“... You two are undertaking your last Trail.” Bryon began. “You will each be taking a specific blend of drugs and then are to go your separate ways. Come back when you have tracked and killed a monster on your own. One more thing- you cannot use your daggers. No throwing knives and any poisons or oils you use you must make out on the wild on your own.”

 

“What if we just wait out the concoction?” Lord asked

 

“Then you will fail.” Byron held up three vials, liquid clear inside. “Slow down your metabolism and one vial shall last you two days and two nights. If you do not, these vials will not last even the morning.”

 

“So you want us to go out drugged, and come back drugged?” Lady said

 

“That is correct.”

 

“Is this traditional?” Lord asked

 

“For the school of the Cat it is.” Byron lied.

 

Lady knew it was a lie- Byron’s left lip curled slightly when he did. She stayed quiet.

 

“And we have to hunt alone.” Lady asked.

 

“You do.” Byron looked at them both. “You are excellent together- but Witchers work alone. So you two must work alone.”

 

“Yes, Lord Byron.” Lord said, bowing his head.

 

Lady looked over at her twin. He had started that ridiculous title six months ago- it unnerved her. It also unnerved the Wolf and his witchers. After all, their guild was neutral- they don’t take titles unless it’s part of a contract. Even then, they do not use it outside of court- if they are ever in court.

 

“Garrett, you will go out first.”

 

“What?” Lady looked at Byron. “Why me?”

 

“I expect you to return in three days.”

 

“Three days?” Are you insane- we’re near the end of summer and the Wolfs have hunted down every last monster in the Blue Mountains- and you want me to come back with something in three days?”

 

“A drowner will not count.”

 

“This is impossible!”

 

“Then you are not fit to become a Witcher.”

 

“FUCK YOU!” Lady yelled, moving to stand in front of Byron. “WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON THE PATH YEARS AGO! THREE YEARS! THREE YEARS YOU FUCKING ABANDON US HERE- LEFT US TO THE FUCKING DOGS AND FOR WHAT!? SO YOU COULD HIDE US? SO THAT THE OTHERS WOULDN’T KNOW YOU SCREWED UP YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE EXPERIMENT?”

 

Byron moved quickly- but Lady was ready. The throwing knife she had on her back came out, blocking the other dagger hidden in his vambrace. She grabbed his hair that was shoulder length and brought his face down to her knee. A sharp pain in her calf- a thin blade had pierced her but she gritted through it, letting the poison go through her system. She brought down her knife between his shoulder blades, grabbing the leathers he wore and throwing him into the table she had just been sitting at.

 

The Master Cat caught himself, kicking her in the chest as she stepped closer, the sword she carried drawn. Byron snapped his fingers, Lord moving quickly to defend his master. Lady’s sword met Lord’s, the identical twins staring down at each other. Lord’s face was blank, uncaring. Like he was in some kind of trance.

 

“Brother,” Lady gritted her teeth. “Get out of the way.”

 

“No.”

 

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

 

“I WON’T LET YOU KILL HIM!”

 

Lady screamed, pulling out a silver shortsword and lunging forward with it. Lord sidestepped it, pirouetting in place before grabbing a chair and flinging it at her. Byron watched, leaning on the table and carefully pulling out the blades. He smiled, watching as Lady pushed Lord over and over, using shortsword as a mock shield. Lord was slow- he always was. Insane, easily manipulated, but slow and unimaginative. Lady on the other hand, quick to act, even quicker to temper. Stubborn, refused to submit. No… no if Byron was going to succeed in what he wanted, he would have to do better next time. Somewhere in the middle of these two.

 

Lady finished the fight, bleeding from one calf. Lord fell to the ground, his left arm covered in nicks, right arm barely holding his sword up to defend himself. Lady breathed heavily, blades crossed over her twin’s throat, yellow eyes meeting yellow. Her own face stared back at her, terrified.

 

“Sister…” Lord whispered, one hand up, shaking and bloody. “Please… please don’t kill me.”

 

She stopped, realized what had just happened. She tried to stand up but the blade in her leg stopped her, as she crumbed to the ground, looking at her twin. The two siblings stayed there on the floor, trying to process what had just happened. Byron stood up, dusting himself off before handing each of them a different vial- antidotes to the poisons they used on each other.

 

“You will do as I say, Garrett.” Byron said, kneeling down to pull his own thin blade from her calf. “Or you will never live to walk The Path. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“When do I leave?” Lady asked, forcing her body to process the poison instead of taking the antidote. She knew her veins were visible underneath her skin.

 

“You leave tomorrow at dawn. Tend to your own. Bran. You leave the day after at dusk. We still have something to discuss.”

 

“Yes, Lord Byron.”

 

* * *

 

Lady took the first vial, walking towards the front gates in a linen shirt and her steel sword strapped to her back, one silver shortsword that rested on the small of her back, the hilt to be pulled out by her left hand. The Grandmaster for the school of the Wolf was standing by the gate, along with two of his witchers that trained their boys.

 

“Lady, good luck.” Wolf said.

 

He was a gruff man, older than most witchers, salt and pepper beard that hid the vicious scar he had earned from an early contract. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her close so that he could slip her something into her belt.

 

“There’s a water hag on the other side of the lake- young but dangerous. This should help until you get there.” Wolf whispered.

 

Lady said nothing, just nodded to the three men and walked out of Kaer Morhen. The blend that Byron had given her kicked in when she was a mile away from the gates.  _ Fiendish Fear. _ It was the same poison she used on her throwing daggers. Everything around her started to go dark, the birds sounded like sirens, the wolves in the distance cackling and screaming as children. She found an old oak, the bark oozing blood and smelling like necrophages, and sat in the stump.

 

Shaking and delusioned, Lady mediated, focusing on her heartbeat. Slowly the erratic pattern stabilized, but considerably higher than it should be. Her breathing shortened, in and out through her mouth to keep quiet. She closed her eyes and saw hellish nightmare but did not flinch away.  _ Fucker gave us a concentrated amount. _ The sun rose up into the sky, noon past before the worst of the poison was gone, the after effects coursing through her system.

 

It was dusk by the time  _ Fiendish Fear _ was gone. She got up and looked back. Kaer Morhen was awake, but only the training barracks and Master’s quarters. She climbed up the old oak, the linen shirt she wore soaked with her own sweat. Up in the tops of the branches the night air chilled her skin. She pulled out what the Grandmaster Wolf had slipped her.

 

“Rations.” she smiled. “Could be worse.”

 

She ate them, looking over at the lake below. There had been tales that this place was once beneath an ocean- or so the elves had said. Lady didn’t know if that were true- but the lake certainly held its share of mysteries.

 

“Water hags are necrophages, but she’ll be weak against Igni.” Lady mumbled to herself. “I don’t have any bomb materials, so no Northern Wind… Quen is my only defense right now. Don’t feel like trying to make leather out of a wolf. But then again, if I want to make an oil I’ll have to use tallow and fat. Blowballs are done for the season and chicory won’t bloom for a while… unless I go up the mountain side. I might get lucky, find some bees and they’ll lead me to a patch. Follow the bees, I can find a bear and use the innards as bait for the hag.”

 

Lady finished off the ration, dropping her heart rate down, her body’s temperature lowered to match the summer night. She climbed lower and started to walk across the branches in the night.

 

“A Cat knows how to track, be it in the city or in the forest.” Lady snorted. “But it would help if I had ever lived in a city now, wouldn’t it?”

 

She waited and listened. A lone wolf was in the underbrush, stalking a deer that was stripping bark from a pine. The wolf walked up a boulder, it’s hunting partner going low, circling around. Lady waited, knew that these two hunters were barely a year old. The deer caught one their scents horned head raised up- and saw Lady’s eyes reflecting in the branches. It ran off, the two wolves chasing after their spooked prey. She smiled, moving over to the next tree, noted how they were growing thinner the closer she got the water’s edge.

 

“There’s an old villager on the lake- he might have told Wolf about the hag.” Lady leapt down a branch, a twinge of pain still in her calf. “He might have some components for bombs- or at least he could tell me where the bears are.”

 

The hut at the bottom of the lake was dark.

 

“... Dammit. Must have died.”

 

There was a boat- and a drowner nest right next to the docks.

 

“Drowners won’t count.” Lady said, mocking Byron’s voice in the process. “Asshole. Still, it’s not part of the contract so there’s no reason to kill them just yet. If they’ve made a nest out here in the open then that means the hag isn’t here. The two work together usually- but they’re still competitors for food.”

 

She stayed in the tree branches, using the full moon as a lightsource. The Blue Mountains are never quiet- there was always something happening. Be it the midnight hunt, or the stalking of an old villager’s remains. A sparrow flew past Lady’s head, its beak filled with live bait. As the trees grew thinner, the sun began to rise.

 

“I can’t wait for Lord- I’ll have to get the hag first, bury the trophy somewhere and then track him down. I’ll surprise him for our birthday.”

 

* * *

 

“You wished to see me, Lord Byron?”

 

“Bran, come in.”

 

Lord was dressed in a linen shirt, his twin’s silver dagger on the small of his back, steel sword sheathed and in his hand. Byron waited, watched as his experiment took a knee in front of him, staring back up at him with that miserable pleading look.

 

“You are not to hunt a monster. You are to kill Garrett and bring me his head as trophy.”

 

Bran did not say a word, bowing his head to the ground.

 

“I won’t give you the poison- but I will tell you that it is  _ Fiendish Fear _ that your twin has taken. Do what you wish with that information.”

 

“... Thank you, my Lord.”

 

“When you return, you will be a year older… and alone, for the first time in your life.”

 

“Yes, my Lord.”

 

“Does this not make you happy, Bran?”

 

“No, my Lord.”

 

Byron crouched down, one finger lifting his experiment’s head. Mutated eyes met one another, one narrowing while the others pupil fluctuated rapidly.

 

“Garrett tried to kill me yesterday.” Byron spoke, barely above a whisper. “If he returns, do you think you can stop him again?”

 

“I- she’s my- AH!”

 

Byron grabbed the man by his hair, lifting him up onto his feet, dragging him towards the window.

 

“Take a good look outside, boy.” Byron snarled. “That world is violent and cruel- it will tear you apart and no one, no one! Will save you. I am your only hope. Not even your twin will save you from yourself.”

 

“L-lord Byron, please.”

 

“Do you wish to travel back with me?”

 

“Yes! Yes, my Lord.”

 

“Then kill your twin. Do not return until one of you is dead.”


End file.
